


The Idiosyncratic Institute

by mylongestoof



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Title: Martin Adopts Three Children Amidst Chaos, Angst, Archives Family Perhaps, But it’s faster than Canon, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Non-Typical Adults Listening, Canon-Typical The Lonely (The Magnus Archives), F/F, Found Family, I’m may be projecting onto Martin, M/M, Oh it gets so Lonely, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry, Secret Organizations, Slow Burn, That’s right we’re doing a crossover in season 4!!!, The Admiral is CUTE, This is purely a passion project, coupled with my bad writing!!!, sibling chaos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylongestoof/pseuds/mylongestoof
Summary: When Martin gets a call from a “Mr. Poe”, he thinks it’s either A) a scam, or B) another one of his relatives calling about his recently passed mother. He doesn’t expect a banker in charge of the affairs of three children who are distantly related to him, and he doesn’t expect the conversation to be one of guardianship.But he feels for them, he really does, and he decides, after everything that’s happened (Jon, the Unknowing, the Flesh attacking the Institute, Peter Lukas) he could do some good for someone else for once.And then Jon wakes up.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 148
Kudos: 181





	1. The Bright Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Just a few (big) words before you start. I’m going off of book canon for ASoUE but I’m making it a bit more modern. Also, I don’t think they ever said what country they were from (in the show and that god awful movie, it was vaguely American) so I’m just going to assume it was America or Canada.  
> Next, instead of going to the Village of Fowl Devotees (I’ll miss Hector too), they’ll go with Martin (yay!).  
> Finally, I am in no way, in any shape or form, a decent writer and am constricting this down to 13 chapters like the books. That would be painful for me, but good news for you, it’ll be longer in the long run. I also do not own either of these works. I am not Lemony Snicket or any of those fine folks up at Rusty Quill.  
> I sound gross and weirdly informal. Ew. Anyway, uh, if you read this comment big boy man or whatever. Is that still a meme in this podcast? Also tell me if this is good. Okay Bye.

Martin was sitting at his desk when his phone began to ring. He assumed that it was another call from another estranged family member whom he had never met before, one who had just found out about his mother’s passing. Usually he just let those ring and listen to the voicemail afterwards, but Peter was there, and he was smiling at him. Not a nice smile, but one that said “answer the phone.” So Martin did.

“This is Martin Blackwood.” Martin said, instantly.

“Is this-Oh, well, my name is Mr. Poe and-” There was a long pause and several loud coughs on the other end. Martin gripped the handle of his seat in both irritation and fear. The last time he heard someone cough like that...well, it wasn’t very nice.

“Mr. Poe, why are you calling?” Martin asked, as politely as could, “It’s the middle of a work day, and I am very busy.”

“Right. Well, I have here three children that you are distantly related to on your, erm...father's side. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire. Their parents perished in a very terrible fire last year, you might have heard of it. The Baudelaires were and still are a staple in the newspapers today.” Mr. Poe stopped to cough again, and Martin pulled the phone away from his ear.

“Well, I’d love to help.” Martin said, “But I simply don’t have enough money to provide for three children, much less myself.”

“Right, yes, about that. We’ve been having trouble with finding guardians for the children, and I work with the bank, so I can provide financial assistance  _ and  _ appropriate housing. It says here, Mr. Blackwood, that you work at The Magnus Institute in London, right?”

In front of him, Peter stood up to leave. Martin watched as he did so, and sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“We’ll work out the details in person when I get there. But, would you consider taking them?”

Martin sighed again, louder this time, so the whole room could hear. Jon was still in a coma. Tim was dead, his mother was dead. Martin might as well adopt three kids at this point. It wasn’t like anything else could get worse.

“Alright, I will.” Martin said.

* * *

Violet thought airplanes were quite interesting. She had marveled at them the entire flight while Mr. Poe slept on her shoulder. Next to her, Klaus had ranted about airplanes in World War II. Next to Klaus, Sunny sat in her seat; chewing on peanuts.

“Do you think Count Olaf will follow us here?” Klaus asked quietly, so as not to wake Mr. Poe.

Violet looked out of the airplane window and sighed. She didn’t know. Count Olaf was quite persistent but she didn’t know if he would follow them all the way to London.

“Maybe.” She said, “I don’t know, Klaus. Maybe...maybe things will be different with Mr. Blackwood.”

“ _ Weecho. _ ” Sunny whispered, which meant,  _ ‘Or it could be just like all the others.’ _

Klaus’s shoulders sagged and Violet shook her head, “Don’t think like that, Sunny. Do you want to know something cool, Klaus? Mr. Blackwood works for a place called The Magnus Institute.”

He perked up, “Oh, what do they do there?”

“They collect and investigate paranormal statements.”

Klaus would definitely be interested in that. Violet personally thought that it was all fake anyways, as she was a woman of science and engineering, but Klaus would love it, real or not.

“Maybe he’d let us read some. Just like how Justice Strauss let us read her law books.”

They all sat in silence, remembering the fond times they had with Justice Strauss, which bled into remembering the fond times they had with all of the kind people in the past year. They hoped that Mr. Blackwood would be the same; no, would be better.

Violet looked outside of the window again, and saw that they were approaching London. She shook Mr. Poe awake.

“Woah, are we crashing?!” He exclaimed, as he woke up.

“No,” she said calmly, “We’re almost there.” She buckled her seatbelt, “You might want to buckle up.”

“Right, right.” He grabbed his handkerchief and coughed into it before he buckled up.

Sunny grabbed Klaus’s hand and squeezed it, smiling up at him with a toothy grin. They were almost in London.

* * *

“I’m adopting three children now.” Martin told Jon. Jon didn’t respond. He hadn’t in quite a while. Maybe Martin thought that this news would be so shocking that Jon would wake up and they’d...run away together or something. Martin knew it was impossible. Still, he could hope.

“They’re relatives on my father’s side. That’s what Mr. Poe, the man who called, said. Maybe they’ll have answers. Probably not. I shouldn’t hope for that. That isn’t fair.”

Martin looked up at Jon’s face. It was void of any movement or emotion. He might as well have been dead. After all, the doctors and nurses said he should have been.

“Jon,  _ please,  _ I-” Martin bit his lip and looked away. He wasn’t going to have a meltdown in the hospital, right before he was supposed to meet his new children. Martin really didn’t like that sentence.

“Well...I moved into a new apartment. It’s got three bedrooms. It’s nicer than my old apartment. More secure, that’s for sure. Jane Prentiss isn’t getting in this time.” Martin chucked at his joke, but it was forced. Memories of his entrapment were dredged up suddenly, and during that chuckle, he relieved that.

“I’ll be visiting more, I promise. I’m not going to leave you here.” Martin whispered, “So...bye, Jon.”

As usual, Jon didn’t respond. Martin got up, and pulled his coat tighter around him. As he left the hotel room, he passed Georgie and didn’t say a word. Martin was sure that she didn’t even notice him, and he didn’t really care.

* * *

The Magnus Institute didn’t look like a place where one would go to investigate paranormal statements. Violet pictured something more modern. Klaus pictured something more lowkey. Sunny pictured something that had less budget. The Magnus Institute looked elegant and old. As Mr. Poe led them up the front steps, they stared up and took in the sheer beauty of it.

“It does look...rather big, huh?” Mr. Poe asked.

“It looks opulent.” Klaus whispered, still in awe of the place, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“It is.” Violet says, “It says so on the front.” They pushed the door open, and a woman at the front desk looked up at them.

“Oh, you must be the Baudelaires! Mr. Blackwood was expecting you today!” The woman stood up and grabbed some of their bags from them and began their walk to Mr. Blackwood’s office.

“Rosie.” Klaus read aloud from her name tag.

“That’s right.” She said, “I work here, front desk.”

“ _ Ooleg. _ ” Sunny exclaimed, which meant,  _ ‘You can tell us about Mr. Blackwood!’ _

“What?” Rosie asked, tilting her head ever so slightly.

“What is Mr. Blackwood like?” Klaus asked.

Rosie thought about it for a second, “Well, he’s a kind man usually, but recently he’s been distant. Things have been difficult, especially for those involved with the Archives. There was an incident, and...Mr. Poe, is it alright if I speak of death to the children?”

Mr. Poe pauses, “Good heavens, what happened?”

“I’m not sure, but whatever happened resulted in the death of two archival assistants and the resulting coma of the Archivist. Martin was close with all three of them.”

“How recent was this?” Violet asked.

“About five months ago.” Rosie answered.

“And...how is Martin related to us?”

“His father is related to your mother, Violet. Distant cousins.” Mr Poe said, “I should call my wife, she would love to hear about this story.”

Rosie nodded absent-mindedly before opening a door and motioning for the children to enter.

The room itself was a very large room that had some empty desks and chairs. In the back of the room was a desk with a person, presumably Mr. Blackwood, who hadn’t yet noticed them. Klaus instantly noticed his glasses and the fogginess of them. Violet noticed the temperature of the room and the instant change. Sunny noticed the fog underneath the desk, seeping out. It dissipated quickly, but she noticed it. This man was strange.

“Martin.” Rosie said, “Mr. Poe and the children are here.”

Immediately, the fog had disappeared. Klaus saw his eyes, and recognized the similarities in his parents, in Violet’s, in Sunny’s, and even his own. He looked over to Violet, and knew that she had seen this as well. She was smiling a genuine smile.

Martin stood up, “Hello Violet, Klaus, and…” Martin searched the room for Sunny and found her on the ground, staring up at him with a toothy grin, “and Sunny.” He smiled at them and the fog seemed to feel like a distant memory.

“Right, we need to sign a few things, then Mr. Blackwood can take you to your new home.”

“Did you tell him about Count Olaf?” Klaus asked.

Mr. Poe chuckled, “I highly doubt that man will follow you all the way out here. How will he even pass border control?”

“It’s been done before by other criminals.” Violet said, “And Esmé is with him now, so who knows what he has access to.”

“Violet, I really don’t think that he is going to come here for you three.”

“Who is Count Olaf?” Martin asked.

The three children looked up at Martin and saw genuine concern for the first time in a year.

“Our first guardian since our parents died.” Klaus explained, “He tried to marry Violet to get our inheritance and ever since then he’s been following us and killing or-or tricking our guardians!”

Martin visibly paled, and Klaus wondered if he said the wrong thing. He worried if Martin would give them up, and if they’d have to return back with Mr. Poe that same night, back with the Poe family. Klaus really didn’t want to do that again.

“M-Mr. Blackwood, I doubt that Count Olaf will follow the Baudelaire children this far. You don’t have to worry.”

Martin quickly glances down at the children. It was a fast glance, one that Mr. Poe doesn’t recognize.

“Right.” He says, completely flat, “If you say so. What do I have to sign.”

Mr. Poe lets out a sigh of relief, and pulls out his briefcase, “Children, give us some room. Maybe go outside for a bit while Mr. Blackwood and I discuss business.”

“Don’t go too far.” Martin says, “Don’t go down to the Archives or Artifact Storage. Don’t go into any yellow doors. You’re smart children, I trust you’ll be safe for a bit.”

Violet nodded, and pulled her two siblings out of the office. Behind them, the door shut quietly, and they pulled themselves onto a bench.

“Well,” she said, “That was good.”

“He didn’t give us up.” Klaus whispered to himself, seemingly surprised and overjoyed at the thought.

“ _ Lipso. _ ” Sunny mumbled, meaning  _ ‘Martin seemed really nice, actually.’ _

Klaus shook his head, “But..what about the foggy glasses?”

Violet nodded, “I noticed something strange too. It was really cold!”

“ _ Fiplo. _ ”

Violet frowned, “That’s...that doesn’t make sense. Fog coming from him would mean that there would have to be a machine of sorts and…” she reached for her ribbon but stopped. Down the hallway stood a woman, who was listening in on their conversation. As soon as they stopped, she walked closer, and stood in front of them.

“Hey.” She said, in a very rude voice, “Who are you talking about?”

Sunny bared her teeth at the woman and the woman bared her teeth back. Violet wanted to get Martin but the door was too far away. Adults should know better than to corner children like this.

“This isn’t very nice!” Klaus said.

“Who are you talking about?” The woman demanded, “Is it Martin?!” She turned away and mumbled to herself, “Damn fool, gone all Lonely now that Jon’s in a coma. Stupid idiot. Who’s in love with  _ Jon  _ of all people? He’s a monster, worse than Elias.” She turned back around to the three children, “You didn’t hear that, yeah?” She backed away from them:

The door opened and Martin poked his head out. When he saw the woman, he quickly made his way over to the children, putting himself in between.

“Martin.” The woman said, her tone full of disdain.

“Melanie.” Martin said, mostly full of sadness and a bit of annoyance.

“You hassling kids for Lukas now?” She asked.

“It’s none of your business, and no, I’m not.”

Mr. Poe walked out of the office, “Goodbye, Baudelaires. I’ll call you when I get back to America. Enjoy your new home!”

No one paid him any mind, but Melanie glared at the children, “What is this, Martin? You can’t expect me to think this is good? After what happened with the Unknowing, with Tim and Jon.”

Violet felt as if she should do something. She could feel the temperature drop again. So she stepped forward, and cleared her throat.

“Our mother was his father’s cousin.” Violet announced, “After our parents perished in a fire that took our home, we’ve been passed around, and Martin decided to take us in.” Klaus and Sunny nodded along with the story. The temperature returned to normal.

Melanie rolled her eyes, “Fine. I’m going back downstairs. By the way, Martin, Basira wants to talk to you.” She quickly turned and left.

“Who was that?” Klaus asked, as soon as she was out of earshot.

“A coworker.” Martin answered quickly, wanting to avoid that discussion, “Well, come on, you three. I’ve got the rest of the day off, which means that I can show you your new home early.” He flashed them a quick smile and began walking.

All of the children had so many questions. They wanted to ask about the Archives and Artifact Storage. They wanted to ask about Jon, Tim, and Melanie. They wanted to ask about Count Olaf, and get his opinion on whether or not he believed he would be coming for them. The children had so many questions plaguing their minds, but as Martin just led them out of the institute and to a cab, they felt a strange sense of peace. So they didn’t ask their questions. They just piled into a car and made their way to their new home, once again.


	2. The Astonishing Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks after the Baudelaire children are placed in the care of Martin Blackwood, a certain Jonathan Sims wakes up, and the Baudelaires find their way to him.

The first two weeks of living with Martin were peaceful, Violet thought. Count Olaf hadn’t shown up, Klaus and Sunny seemed to be very happy, and Martin was a good man. He did his best to be a good guardian and a good friend. It seemed that they had all liked Martin.

Klaus liked Martin’s poetry books. It reminded him of Duncan and Isadora, and he often found himself reading them, with Martin’s permission.

Sunny liked Martin’s tea. Martin wasn’t a very good cook, of which he had told them the very first night, but he had made very good tea.

_“Sunny is a very good chef.”_ Violet had told Martin.

_“Oh, good!”_ Martin had said, _“Maybe she can help, then. Because I’m honestly the worst at making any sort of food!”_

Everyday, they would go out. Martin would come home from working at the Institute and take them to the park or to the store to buy groceries, but he’d always go to the hospital beforehand. 

The Baudelaires usually sat outside during this visit, since they knew of Jon (no thanks to Rosie), but one day, Martin turned to them and asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Their need to see and know this man had risen to levels unknown before, and all three had nodded. Martin let them follow, and they walked into the hospital. They passed nurses who seemed to recognize Martin, who seemed to pity him, and Violet couldn’t help but feel sad; Klaus couldn’t help but feel angry; Sunny couldn’t help but feel confused. When they finally entered a room, they saw a small, frail man without a heartbeat, laying on a bed.

“I don’t understand,” was the first thing Klaus had said, followed by Violet, who said, “He has no heartbeat.”

Martin simply nodded, and sat down a small gift, a flower, next to him by the night stand, “If I explained it to you, you would think I was...crazy, then you’d want to leave and well…” Martin didn’t finish his sentence, and they didn’t press him for answers. They didn’t want to leave.

“ _Looga?_ ” Sunny asked, meaning _‘Why did you bring us here?’_

Martin turned to Sunny, and Violet translated for her.

“I don’t know,” He said, quietly, “I think...You know what death is. You’ve been surrounded by it for a while, so I’ve been told. Jon is medically dead, his heart isn’t beating, but his brain is active. He is thinking.” Martin turned back to Jon, and stared at him, “I wanted you to meet him. I guess I could find old tapes or-or statements of him but it isn’t the same. This is Jon now, I suppose.” Martin sighed.

Klaus was the first to move towards him, almost immediately wrapping his small arms around him. Sunny was next, followed by Violet.

Almost immediately, there was some sniffles, and it became clear that Martin was crying. Violet slowly patted his back, just like her mother used to do when she cried. When he stopped, he slowly patted them away.

“Thank you.” He said, “I’m alright now, I’m alright.”

Klaus stayed close to him, standing next to him as he wiped his face. If you asked him why, Klaus probably wouldn’t answer. If you compelled him, he couldn’t give you a clear answer, either.

“Right,” Martin said, suddenly, “We should probably go, before someone else comes in here.”

“Other people visit him?” Violet asked.

Martin nodded, “I’ve seen B….someone else. Other people. And nurses. I don’t like talking to them, much. Come on.”

Martin glanced down at Jon before he walked out of the room. Klaus followed him. 

“Anything you want to say, Sunny?” Violet asked.

Sunny shook her head, “ _Echni._ ”

Violet sighed. Sunny was right. What was the point of saying something to someone who couldn’t hear it? They walked out of the room and followed Martin and Klaus.

The next day, after Martin got home, they didn’t go to the hospital. Martin just went to his bedroom and closed the door. They didn’t go to the park or the store, either.

“What do you think that could mean?” Violet asked, “Do you think...Do you think Jon died?”

Sunny crawled on top of Klaus’s legs and sighed, shaking her head, “ _Ripno._ ” Which meant, _‘I really hope he didn’t.’_

Violet stood up from the couch, “Right, well, I’m going to make sure he’s alright.”

Klaus looked up at her, “Violet, what if Jon _did_ die?”

Violet frowned. She didn’t understand if Klaus was asking where Jon went or what would happen to Martin if Jon had died. She didn’t know how to answer either question.

“We’ll figure that out later, Klaus. For now, we just ask Martin how he’s doing.” She pulled her skirt over her knees, and walked over to Martin’s door, knocking softly on it.

There came a timid, “Yes.”

“Martin, are we going to the park today?”

“...Right...do you think you can do that by yourselves? I’m not...today isn’t a very good day.”

Violet withheld a breath. That was bad news. She hoped that it was just normal bad days and not _bad_ bad days.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yes, Violet, I’m okay. Thank you for asking. I have money in my wallet for the tube. Don’t...don’t talk to strangers and don’t talk to anyone who might hurt you.”

Violet nodded, and she backed away from the door. Klaus looked up from the couch as she returned, awaiting her response.

“What did Martin say?” He asked.

“Well, he didn’t say much.” Violet said, “But we are going to the hospital again today.”

On the tube ride to the hospital, they encountered no weird people. Most of the commuters on there were minding their own business and barely paid any mind to the children. 

Luckily for them, it was easy to sneak into the hospital. Being children, they could just walk inside and be unnoticed. All they had to do was trail behind some unsuspecting adult until they reached Jon’s room. Jon’s room, which had previously had a man who had been almost dead. Jon’s room, which now had a man who was sitting up, now alive and well, as well as an unfamiliar woman.

The woman turned around as soon as they walked in.

“Wrong room, kids.” She said.

Klaus clutched Violet’s arm, “He’s alive? He was nearly dead yesterday! This is all impossible and _improbable!_ ”

Jon squinted in their direction, “You three aren’t supposed to be here. Martin said-Martin! You live with Martin?” He turned to the woman, wide eyed and confused, “When did Martin have children?”

The woman shrugged, “I don’t know. He hasn’t been speaking with anyone.”

Jon turned his head back to the children, “...Basira, get out.”

The woman, who the children now recognized as Basira, shrugged once again, and left the room.

“How did you get here?” Jon asked, calmly. He didn’t seem upset at them, but genuinely curious. There was no compulsion behind the words.

“We took the tube.” Klaus answered.

Jon chuckled, “Not what I meant. How...How did you _find_ me? Did Martin tell you about me?”

“Martin showed you to us.” Violet answered, “Yesterday, actually. He’d been visiting almost everyday, but yesterday had been the first time we had seen you.”

Jon’s eyes snapped over to the flower, now a bit wilted, on the nightstand, “Did he tell you anything? At all? About...how-”

“No.” Klaus interrupted, “I’m not sure if we should hear it, either.”

“ _Prestlo._ ” Sunny said, _‘Information can be dangerous.’_

Jon nodded, “You’re right. Especially for children, but…I get the feeling that I should at least give you some information to protect yourselves with.”

Violet stared at Jon, unsure of how he understood Sunny. Jon’s gaze moved to her, and he sighed, “Oh, right, well this is a good place to start. Martin can get mad at me all he wants. I openly accept it.”

“He wouldn’t.” Klaus promised. Sunny nodded in agreement.

“That is kind of you to say.” Jon said, before reaching over to the nightstand and taking the flower. A petal fell to the floor, but no one bothered to pick it up.

“My...full name is Jonathan Sims. Sorry if this speech sounds rather professional, I’ve been the Head Archivist at The Magnus Institute for quite some time now. I became the Head Archivist after the last Archivist, Gertrude Robinson, was murdered in her office.” Jon looked up at the children, who stared at him, slightly horrified.

“That’s...terrible.” Violet said.

“I know.” Jon let out a long breath, “This is important, though, if you want to...live with Martin.”

They nodded, and waited for him to continue.

“After that, I became Head Archivist, a job that, quite frankly, I shouldn’t have had. I chose two archival assistants that I wished to work with, Sasha James and Timothy Stoker, and I got on with it. Fortunately for me, the head of the Institute, _Elias,_ decided to send in another, and he sent in Martin. I was a p-jerk to him, I’m not going to try and put it any other way. Most often in his earshot, I’d harshly criticize him, and in return, he wound...bring me tea and make sure I was alright. Martin is a good person, and I’m sure that he will be a good guardian and protector, but...The Magnus Institute and Peter Lukas aren’t good. They’re…” Jon pauses, and he looks down at Sunny, “Sunny, I can understand you, right?”

Sunny smiles a toothy smile, “ _Hesla._ ” 

“He can.” Jon quickly translates, “Something happened, something bad. I don’t want to tell you, because I’m afraid that if I do, then you’ll be subject to it as well, but what happened to me _changed_ me.” Jon looked down at the flower again, “I’m not entirely human anymore. I think that out of all the children in the world, you three would understand that most.”

They didn’t know what to think, actually. Violet wasn’t sure what Jon meant. Was Jon some sort of robot? Was he some sort of advanced AI? Did they experiment on him? Klaus thought that Jon was a zombie. The man had been dead yesterday, and now he was alive today. He didn’t know what to think.

Out of all of the Baudelaires, Sunny was the most understanding. She simply crawled onto the bed, and looked up at Jon.

“VFD!” She said.

“Not exactly.” Jon says, “But close. Very close.”

“You work with the VFD?” Klaus asked, “Did you know our parents?”

Jon frowned, and shook his head, “I didn’t know your parents. We have connections with some Volunteers, but most have been...swayed or killed at this point.”

The three children slumped over in disappointment. They had hoped to maybe learn more about their parents, VFD, or to find Duncan and Isadora. Maybe, with more time, they’d get somewhere.

“So, what are you exactly?” Klaus asked.

“A monster.” Jon answered, gravely, “I feed off of fear.”

“So, The Magnus Institute isn’t an Institute at all?” Violet asked, “But a place where they go to make more...more people like you?”

Jon shook his head, “No, it’s...I should explain this better. I’m trying to keep this as vague as possible. There are Fourteen Entities, or Fears, in this world, and The Magnus Institute serves The Eye, The Ceaseless Watcher, The Beholding, the fear of being watched. I think you three know this one well.”

They all looked at each other, then at Jon, and nodded.

“As Head Archivist, I become an Avatar of the Eye. Avatars are humans that become connected to an entity.”

“ _Cigam?_ ” Sunny asked, _‘Is Martin an Avatar?’_

“No, I’m absolutely positive he isn’t.” Jon said, “But Basira told me he was working with Peter Lukas, and he _is_ an Avatar.”

“Is Peter an Avatar of the Eye?” Klaus asked.

“He’s an Avatar of the Lonely.” Jon said.

Immediately, all three of the children perked up, remembering what Melanie had said to them two weeks ago. _‘Damn fool, gone all Lonely now that Jon’s in a coma. Stupid idiot.’_

“Do Lonely Avatars have misty glasses?” Klaus asked.

“Or temperature changes?” Violet questioned.

“ _Gofska?_ ” Sunny inquired, meaning _‘Or fog protruding from their desks?’_

“You’ve seen that from Martin.” Jon stated, “Well, I have to admit that isn’t ideal, _at all,_ but it’s great that you’ve brought this to my attention.”

“Are you going to talk to him about it?” Klaus asked.

Jon nodded, “I’m going to try. I’m not going to let him…” He stopped speaking and shook his head, “You three had better head back soon. I know Martin is worried that he let you go alone. Tell Basira that I said to give you extra money for a cab home, okay?”

“You work in the Archives, right?” Violet asked, “We can find you there?”

“Don’t go to the Institute.” Jon said sternly, “I may not be your guardian, but I Know that Martin is limiting your time there as much as he can. We will speak when we get the chance, alright?”

“ _Reecne._ ” Sunny said, _‘You have to stay safe, too.’_

Jon smiled, “Alright, Sunny. I’ll try.”

The Baudelaires left the room and got their money from Basira, who barely gave them a second glance. One of the perks of being children, they supposed.

When they returned home, Martin was pacing the cold, cold living room. When he turned to greet them, warmth immediately returned.

“Oh, you’re back!” He said, rushing to hug them. They joyfully accepted it, happy to see Martin again.

“ _Derrow._ ” Sunny said.

“You were worried about us.” Klaus translated.

Martin nodded, “I shouldn’t have let you go to the park alone. I remembered what Mr. Poe said about Count Olaf, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him getting you and…” Martin pulled them closer, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Violet said, “We forgive you. But we’re back and now we can make dinner. Right, Sunny?”

Sunny nodded.

Martin chuckled, but he didn’t move from his spot, from hugging the children. He just continued to hug them, and they all felt a little more happy. The room felt a little more warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, lots of people liked this! Insane! Thank you all! A warning though, my updating schedule is NOT CONSISTENT AT ALL. I’m like social anxiety and procrastination merged into one singular being.  
> Oh, one more thing. I’m making Martin wayyyy more Lonely than in Canon for Reasons (which will be seen later as the story develops). It will especially be seen with physical cues (like the things the Baudelaires mention), so just note that.  
> Okay, bye!


	3. The Atrocious Assistant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon sees Martin. Jon sees the Baudelaires. Jon sees...someone new.

Martin didn’t know why he was walking past Jon’s office. Maybe he missed him. He probably did. Actually, he did know why he was walking past his office. He wanted to hear his voice, to _know_ that he was still alive and still him. Martin wanted to hear him and confirm that he was okay.

He did get that confirmation, of course. Martin could hear the statement from outside Jon’s door, and he could hear Jon’s comments as well. They sounded normal-as normal as normal could be. Martin was grateful that he didn’t break down right there, but he knew that the Lonely was doing most of the work in _that_ particular instance.

Then Jon realized that Martin was outside, and Martin barely had time to move away before he was in front of him, looking up at him like...like he had actually missed him. Martin didn’t like it. Martin did like it. Martin didn’t know.

“Oh.” Martin says, “Hi, Jon.”

Jon stutters. He isn’t professional, and Martin can’t help but think that he is adorable. Martin can’t help but think that this is heartbreaking.

“Martin, it’s...I haven’t seen you!”

“Yeah, Sorry.”

They go back and forth. When Jon mentions that Martin is working for Peter, he tells him that it’s complicated. He really wants to tell him about the Extinction, but he remembers what he’s working for, _who_ he’s working for, and he bites his tongue and keeps quiet.

“How are you, Martin? I, uh, I heard about...the children.” 

“They’re good. Wonderful kids, very smart. Smarter than me.”

“Don’t say that.” Jon said, “You are smart.”

Martin looks away from Jon, and backs up, “I’ve, Look Jon, I’ve really got to go-”

Jon sighs, and Martin can feel the disappointment weigh on his chest, “Oh. Okay.”

Martin stares at him for a bit, “I’m sorry.”

Jon looks him in the eye, “It was good to see you, Martin.”

“Yeah.” Martin turns away, and he hears Jon mumble to himself.

* * *

Jon is sitting at his desk, about to record the statement of Sergeant Terrance Simpson when there is a knock at his door. At first, he looks up and sees nothing. Then, there are three children, and the crippling fear he felt washes away.

“Violet, Sunny, Klaus.” Jon says, “I thought I told you not to come to the Institute.”

The door was opened, revealing the three children, all dressed in matching clothes (of which also corresponded with Martin’s). Jon couldn’t help but smile at them.

“We had to see Martin today.” Klaus said, “Just for a bit, he had forgotten something. We thought we would come and see you.”

Jon’s smile widened, “Oh, do you have questions?”

Violet nodded, “A lot. Did you speak to Martin?”

Martin. Jon shook his head, “I did, but...he’s avoiding me. I didn’t get the time to talk about the Lonely.”

“What did you talk about?” Klaus asked.

“Few things. He didn’t _want_ to speak to me.” Jon looked back to his desk, back to the statement he had yet to read, “But I suppose that’s just the Lonely, or Peter, making him think that it’s better to just avoid me.”

“You never explained the other fears.” Violet said, “Should we...know about them?”

Jon paused, “Maybe. I’m not quite sure you should just yet. I definitely don’t want to unload everything onto you all at once. It’s _quite_ a lot to take in, especially for those who shouldn’t have to be subjected to it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Klaus asked, slightly offended.

“I mean that you’re children.” Jon explained, “You shouldn’t be in the position to-to know about this, you should be worrying about school, about making friends. It really is quite horrifying. Some of the things I have to see, I have to Know, are...they’re bad, to put it lightly.”

“ _Rajed?_ ” Sunny asked, _‘You can’t quit?’_

“None of us can. Not Martin, not Melanie, not even me. When we try to quit, we find that we can’t. We can’t turn in our notice or say ‘I quit’. It’s physically impossible. If we try to stop working or we leave for too long, we get sick and we’ll die.”

“Oh…” Klaus covered his mouth and stepped back, “That’s _horrible!_ Martin didn’t tell us this!”

Jon looked at Klaus for a few seconds. Klaus, out of the three Baudelaire children, was closest with Martin. There were many reasons for this, of course, too many for Jon to Know outright, but Jon Knew that Klaus was close to Martin. Hearing this, hearing that Martin must put himself in a life or death situation hurt him more than it had hurt the others. Jon sympathized with him.

“He probably doesn’t want you to know the truth yet. Or ever, if I’m being honest.” Jon lets out a deep sigh, “Not the most safest choice if I’m being honest, but entirely understandable.” If Jon were in his position, he’d keep them away from The Magnus Institute and away from himself, as well. Alas, Jon wasn’t Martin, and Jon had enough self control and humanity left to keep himself from doing anything to the Baudelaires.

“Let’s meet in front of the Institute every week.” Jon suggested, “So I can teach you what I know about the Entities and about the Institute and about VFD.”

“ _Taif!_ ” Sunny squealed, _‘That sounds perfect!’_

“Thank you.” Violet said, “I...I understand why Martin isn’t telling us this, but thank you for doing this instead.”

Jon looked up at her and shook his head, “Don’t thank me yet, Violet. You won’t like this, I promise you.”

“I already don’t like this. Not one bit.” Klaus said, “I’m stating this, completely for the record, especially when this turns bad.”

“You’re not coming?” Violet asked.

Klaus shook his head, “I am, don’t misunderstand me. I want to know, and I want to understand. I just...I know things will always go sour. They always do, at least for us.” Sunny nodded in agreement.

Jon knew that Klaus was right. Things usually did turn out wrong for the Baudelaire children. Things also turned out wrong for those who worked in the Archives as well. At least they had that in common.

“We’ll meet on Thursday.” Jon said, “Around lunchtime, if that’s okay?”

They all smiled and nodded. The date was set, and a plan was made. Then, as quickly as they came, the Baudelaires left.

* * *

Jon had finished the statement when Basira came in, unannounced. It was better for Jon, since he was going to go get her after the statement anyway. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at her.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Lukas hired another assistant.” She said, “Someone to replace Martin and...Daisy.”

“Daisy didn’t work here, technically.” Jon unhelpfully pointed out.

“I know,” Basira said, “I know, but Lukas says that she needed to be replaced, so he hired someone, and they start soon.”

Jon didn’t like that. Jon didn’t like that one bit.

“Right, well, how soon?” Jon asked.

“Today. Peter sent me an email explaining that he read the man’s application and found it ‘suitable’.” Basira rolled her eyes, “He didn’t even conduct an in-person interview! I...I don’t know how Augustus is going to survive?”

Jon leaned back in his chair further, “We’ll have to tell Augustus everything. About Elias, about the Entities, about how he can’t quit.”

“About the job mortality rate.” Basira reminded, “Can’t forget that.” Jon glared at Basira, and she glared back. This was not a fight that Jon could win.

“Right, then, who should break it to him?” Jon asked.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Basira challenged.

Jon nodded, and held out his hands. He concentrated, and focused on not cheating. 

Basira chuckled to herself, “Well, it looked like you lost. Couldn’t you have used your _powers_ to cheat?”

“I didn’t want to.” Jon mumbled, “By the way, Basira, after this, we’ve got to talk about Melanie.”

Basira toughens, and she nods, “Alright. Now, talk to Augustus.”

Jon walked out of his office and down the long familiar hallways of the Archives. This time, however, it felt different. They were getting a new archival assistant, someone who would have to be subjected to the horrors that the Entities had to offer. And Jon had to tell them that he couldn’t escape it.

Jon walked into the main room of the Archives, the room where Martin’s desk had once been, where it still stood, and found a figure rifling through it. Jon immediately knew something was wrong, and he Knew that Augustus was not who he said he was.

 _“What are you doing?”_ Jon asked, his voice dripping with compulsion.

The man stopped and turned around. Jon finally got a good look at him, and realized that this was not Augustus at all, but Count Olaf. He opened his mouth to speak.

 _“Shut up!”_ Jon yelled, compelling him again, “You have no idea what you just signed up for! For all your treachery and villainy, you really will be just an ant underneath my shoe! A footnote in a statement that could barely feed. You are Count Olaf, and I am going to _fucking_ kill you!”

Basira emerged from the hallway, “Jon, what the _hell_ are you doing?!”

Count Olaf blinked at the two of them in confusion, then began to run away. Jon growled, and yelled, _“Stop.”_

Olaf stopped.

“Jon, _what_ are you doing?!” Basira yelled, “He’s the new assistant!”

“He’s lying!” Jon yelled back, “His real name is Count Olaf, and he’s a thief, a kidnapper, and a murderer. He’s come here to kill Martin and kidnap the children he’s looking after.”

Basira pulls out a knife, “Really?” She asks grimly. Jon nods, and she grabs Olaf, pulling him into a chair, pointing the knife at him, “Okay, talk.”

“I am _not_ this _Count Olaf_ you speak of, I am A-”

Basira put the knife against his throat, “Not going to work, Olaf. I said talk.”

Olaf glanced up at Jon, then back to Basira, and sighed, “Fine. You caught me. I am Count Olaf.”

Basira groaned and Jon could tell she was fighting back to urge to kill him then and there.

“You were going through Martin’s old desk.” Jon said, with absolute certainty, “You want to kill him. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“What are you going to do to stop me?” Count Olaf asked, “As you have figured out, although I am not quite sure how, I have killed many people by now, and Martin seems to be a _very_ easy target.”

Basira’s eyes flickered over to Jon for a moment, only to see how he was doing. Jon was...Jon was doing fine. He has dealt with worse people, with worse things than the likes of Olaf, and the man hadn’t discovered what he had signed, what this job _really_ was. So in Jon’s mind, _he_ had the upper hand.

“You don’t get it, Olaf.” Jon said, “You don’t get what you have done! You’ve just doomed yourself here, just like the rest of us! And for what? To chase their fortune? To chase the Sugar Bowl?”

Olaf doesn’t answer him. He doesn’t know what to say.

“There are ghastly things in this world that are more terrible than humans, more terrible than you. You, Count Olaf, have put yourself in the center of their schemes. You, Count Olaf, cannot kill Martin Blackwood. You, Count Olaf, have begun your job at The Magnus Institute. Now, _ask me what it means._ ”

“Jon.” Basira warned.

“What...what does it mean?” Count Olaf asked, his voice strained.

Jon ignored Basira, and drank up Count Olaf’s fears like a well, “It means that you’re going to die here.”

Olaf was afraid, and for Jon, that was very, _very_ good. Almost preferred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing this, because A) I keep making everyone be nice to Jon and B) I want to kill Olaf so bad.  
> By the way, in this universe, Olaf has no idea what the heck the Entities or the Institute or Avatars are! So isn’t that fun! More on that next chapter: when the Baudelaires see Jon after Melanie to get an updated report, and when Martin gets a lot more Lonely a lot more soon (grammar, I hardly know her)


	4. The Melancholy Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Baudelaires recount some Lonely events to Jon, and Martin gives Klaus some old journals after a hard day at work.

Something changed in the home of Martin Blackwood. Not something big, not something that would cause the Baudelaires to call Mr. Poe and return back to their country of origin, but something of notice. The Lonely became noticeable.

Violet was the first to notice it, to _really_ pick it up. They had been sitting down for dinner. Sunny had made it with the occasional help from Martin, and the children had been talking about their day and about the experiments they had done. Klaus was telling them about a particularly interesting piece of poetry he found, and he was reciting it when Martin, out of nowhere, was staring off into space, distant and cold. Violet felt the temperature drop, but her siblings didn’t notice. She felt...alone.

Underneath the table, she could feel wisps of fog skit across her ankles, lightly tickling her. She looked down and saw, or well, _didn’t_ see the floor.

_“Martin?”_ She whispered, trying not to alarm her siblings, trying to remember what Jon had said about Martin protecting them.

In a moment, it was gone. Martin was aware of himself, and the Lonely was gone. Martin looked up at Violet, utterly horrified at himself, and asked to be excused before quickly fleeing to his room.

_“What was that?”_ Klaus had asked, _“Did you say something? Did...did you tell him about Jon?”_ He whispered.

Violet shook her head, still in shock, _“I...saw the Lonely.”_

Sunny frowned down at her food, saddened by the events that just took place. Klaus stared at the door of his guardian.

_“Klaus?”_ Violet asked.

Klaus didn’t answer Violet. He stayed silent, and continued to finish his meal.

* * *

As they told that story to Jon, they noticed as his face became as gloomy as the sky above them. Most London days were gloomy and rainy, especially during the autumn months. As they recounted these events, it was raining. They all wore raincoats, ones that Martin had bought them. Ones that Martin, although he hadn’t made himself, put a lot of care into choosing. They appreciated it, and the more they thought about it, the more they felt saddened.

“That isn’t good.” Jon said, “That isn’t...that isn’t good at all. Shit, I mean, shoot.” 

“It’s fine.” Violet said, “We’ve heard worse.” 

“We’ve _seen_ worse.” Klaus added.

Jon’s heart broke further, and it had shown on his face.

“Well, I have worse news.” Jon said, “Count Olaf is in the Institute.”

All three of the children froze and stared at Jon, terrified. Jon continued.

“He isn’t allowed to leave the Archives, I have made sure of that. I promise that he won’t hurt you, and if it’s any consolation, he works here. You know what that means.”

“ _Notam._ ” Sunny shrieked, meaning _‘He can’t quit, he can’t leave.’_

Violet started crying, a type of crying that was filled with joy. Klaus held Sunny to his chest a bit tighter, also crying, although not as much as Violet had been. After all, the weight that Violet had been carrying for the past year had been as heavy as the world itself.

“It’s a mix of both, I assume?” Jon asks, smiling. 

They are scared, because Count Olaf, once again, has found them. But they are brave, courageous children. They always have been, as time has shown again and again. Things will be easier this time, adults will listen to them, adults will care for them, and they wouldn’t end up running away from this, scared of a villain who wanted only their money.

Jon set one hand on Violet’s shoulder and one hand on Klaus’s, “I’m afraid that’s all the time I have for today, Baudelaires. You’d better run along home, and _please_ keep an eye on Martin.”

They nodded tearfully.

Sunny smiled up at him, and Jon smiled back. Even without speaking, they understood this one thing: goodbye.

* * *

The tape recorder turns on, and Martin doesn’t quite know what to think. He thinks it must have been because he talked to Jon, it must have been because he spoke to him for that fraction of a moment, and he feels ashamed. Then he begins to talk to the tape recorder, chatting to it, and it feels natural. He feels better, less lonely.

He likes that. Martin likes being less lonely. He doubts, for a second, joining Peter. He thinks about a wild fantasy of quitting, of turning in his resignation with Jon at his side and running away with the Baudelaires in tow. But that’s all it is, isn’t it? A fantasy? A daydream to help him get through the day? When the curtain closes, when Martin stops daydreaming, he feels even more lonely than before.

_God,_ Martin thinks, _I miss Jon._ He says something similar out loud. Then Peter appears as he does so.

“Which isn’t a great sign, if I’m being honest. You talked to him?”

Martin knows what’s coming. He’s lived through this for six months now, he’s lived through Peter’s manipulations. The man was a mastermind when it came to that. Almost as good as Elias.

Martin stuttered out his explanation, but he barely got through it before Peter interrupted him, going on about how much work they had ahead of them. Martin tried to argue back, but it became obvious that Martin could not convince Peter anything in favor of Jon. So Martin agreed. He lied, which was something he had a talent in. Then Peter left him alone.

And it got worse.

It wasn’t as if Martin had _wanted_ it to get worse. It wasn’t as if Martin had _wanted_ to be Lonely. The room fills with fog, and Martin feels far away from everyone, including himself.

Was this Peter’s intention? To make him as lonely as possible? And for what? He still hadn’t explained why, and Martin was...Martin wasn’t anything but miserably lonely, not at the moment. 

Martin doesn’t even know why he’s so Lonely in the first place. He has three children living at his home. That’s three more children than he’d ever think he’d have! He’s living in a nice apartment with a steady job. Martin, in that moment, felt like he shouldn’t be feeling at all.

Then he thought about his mother. He thought about his childhood, and about how she had treated him. He remembered what Elias had told him, when he had burned those statements. He thought about his face, about his reflection. He thought about the Baudelaires, and about their family. It all snapped together. The fog began to fade. He stood up, weak from the Lonely, and grabbed his bag.

From the time it took to leave the Institute to the time it took to get home, few people saw him. Martin was aware of their glances and it hurt him. It was strange and unwelcome, and Martin didn’t want it to ever happen again. When the tube reached it’s stop, Martin was the first off. He sprinted home, and found Klaus sitting on the couch. Just who he wanted to see.

“Klaus, I would like to show you something.” Martin said, a little bit out of breath.

Klaus set down the book he was reading, a book on poetry, one of Martin’s, “Is it...bad? Do I need to get Violet or Sunny?”

Martin shook his head and set down his things on the nearby table, “No, no, it’s just...it’s...well, it’s kind of silly. I thought, since you liked reading those poetry books so much that I could, erm, show you...mine…”

Klaus breaks out into a smile, “Really? You write poetry?”

“Well, I stopped a while ago, but...yes. It probably isn’t _as_ good, so be wary of that!” Martin warned.

Klaus shook his head, “Oh, don’t put yourself down, Martin! I’m sure it’ll be amazing! Where is it?”

Martin motioned for Klaus to follow him and walked into his room. He hadn’t looked through the journals in a long time, afraid to look through the poems about Jon, or the unfinished stanzas about his mother (Martin could never finish those, even when she was alive).

The journals were dusty, untouched. Martin fought back a sneeze when he pulled the desk drawer open with shaking hands.

A voice in the back of his head asked what he was doing. It told him that this was the opposite of progress, that this was the opposite of what Peter wanted for him. Martin shoved it down, _That’s the point._

“Here they are.” Martin said, timidly. Klaus was looking around his room, having never been in before. Oh. Maybe Martin should let them come in sometimes. No, that would be too much. Small things would have to do. Cooking with Sunny, giving them warm coats, and...poetry.

Klaus reached for them, “Thank you! I’m really excited to read them! I had a friend who wrote poetry. Her name was Isadora.” Klaus walked over to Martin’s bed and sat down to read. Right, he supposed that he’d have to be there to witness it.

Martin smiled at Klaus, and sat down next to him on the bed. The thing about Klaus was that he was a fast reader as well as a fast understander. Martin watched as he read through his first journal, which had actually been his last, the one that he had written around Tim and Sasha, the one he had written around Jon. They sat there for thirty minutes, silent and still. Martin was afraid of even moving an inch, of being seen physically while Klaus was looking through something so personal.

When Klaus stopped, Martin finally let out a sigh. He let go of a weight.

“You’re a good writer.” Klaus said, “I think so, anyway.” Klaus looked up at Martin, “You loved Jon?”

“I still do.” Martin answered.

Martin could tell that Klaus had many questions, all of which he wanted to answer. Klaus was nearing thirteen years old, and being raised by kind parents and Violet, he was a rather polite boy. He didn’t ask those questions. So Martin answered them the best he could.

“There are some things I haven’t told you.” Martin said, “I’ve lied about things, kept some truths. Jon is...Jon isn’t in a coma anymore, in fact, he’s alive, again, and he’s working in the Institute.”

Klaus stared at the floor. Martin continued.

“I...If I had my way, Klaus, we’d be far away from here. Jon and I, you and your siblings. All of us, together. But that can’t happen, not until I do something. Something that I can’t tell anybody.” Something that Peter won’t even tell _him._

Klaus looked up at him, “What? Martin...we _know_ the Institute is bad already, you can tell us what it is.”

Unsurprisingly, they figured that out. Martin smiled softly at Klaus, “I wish I could, Klaus, but you have to trust me. No matter how bad I get, how...how distant I’ll be, I’m doing this because I love you, Violet, and Sunny.”

Klaus looked down at the journals, “Can...can I keep these?”

Martin thought about it. Peter would be glad to hear that Martin gave them away, and he would have no idea that Martin had ulterior motives.

“Yes.” Martin said, “You may.”

Klaus stood up and quickly left the room, closing the door behind him, softly.

Martin let out a long sigh. Maybe it was too much to say that he had loved the children, even though he had. He shouldn’t have done that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: My updating schedule is going to be crazy and inconsistent  
> Also me: updates literally every single day
> 
> I’m just excited for this! Also, I think this is going to be about...forty chapters long. Woah, I feel like people pulled back. I just noticed that this lines up with the episode timeline. I will skip here and there for sure, but rough estimate, let’s say forty or so chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, what do you think of Martin and Klaus’s relationship? What do you think of Klaus’s reaction to the journals? I will need a four page essay on my desk by Friday (joking, joking). See you all later!


	5. The Private Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Baudelaires talk to Jon, and he talks to them. Talking!

On the tube ride to the Institute, under the guise that they were once again going to the park, they went over what they were going to discuss with Jon back at the Institute. In his bag, Klaus had the journals. In her hands, Violet had Sunny.

“He needs to know about this plan Martin has.” Klaus says, “It’s obviously not a very good one, not if he’s working with _Lukas._ ” Klaus sneered.

Violet understood where her brother’s hate was coming from, but she didn’t want him to get overwhelmed with anger.

“We will, Klaus.” She assured him, “And we will get more information for other Entities. And more information about VFD.”

Klaus looked out of his window and sighed. Violet couldn’t blame him for being so worried about Martin. She remembered how he had bursted into her room, clutching the journals like they were a lifeline. She remembered how he had poured over them the following days, reading into every detail that Martin had written down. Klaus wanted to report it to Jon, he wanted to tell Jon about every theory he had. Violet thought it wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t stop him.

When they got to the Institute, Jon was waiting for them. The three children quickly ran up the stairs of the Institute entrance to greet him.

“Oh!” Jon said, surprised by their speed, “Hi, you guys look...better?” Jon looked at Klaus, and Klaus looked away, “For the most part. Right, well, do you want to come inside?”

“ _Olaf?_ ” Sunny asked.

“Basira is dealing with him.” Jon assured, “And if he somehow escapes her and evades capture, he won’t evade me.”

“How?” Klaus asked.

“I’ll explain when we get inside.” Jon answered, opening the door. The children looked at each other and stepped inside.

In their few trips to Martin’s office, they had been rushed in. Going into the Archives instead, had been different. Jon was slow, peaking around every corner, making sure it was safe. The Baudelaires found themselves looking around, imaging a time from before, when things were different. They imagined a younger Jon, a Jon who didn’t have those small, circular scars littered on his body, or those burns on his hand, or that scar on his throat. They imagined a younger Martin who appeared much happier, who appeared much brighter in colour, who was warmer to everyone they met. They imagined a love story between the two, secret kisses in the darkened hallways, passing notes, going out to lunch. It wasn’t true, of course, but they imagined it because they still had an image of what love should look like. They found that they liked this love, even if this version of it wasn’t real.

Jon led them to his office, and sat them down in chairs before sitting on his own. He cleaned his desk off, taking a few things and setting them on the floor, out of sight of the children, before he turned to them again.

“Right, okay.” He says, completely unprepared, “I told you about the Eye and the Lonely. I should...I should tell you about the Stranger. It is the fear of the unknown, and it’s what caused my coma. You’ve heard of the ‘uncanny valley’, right?” Jon asked.

Klaus nodded, but did not elaborate further. Of course _he_ had. When he was eleven, he had been thoroughly interested in the subject and had read every book on the subject he could get his hands on.

“Did you know,” Klaus said, “That animals don’t experience ‘uncanny valley’? Only humans do.”

Jon did know that, and he had for a while, “I do now.” Klaus smiled a bit.

“Think of the Stranger, I Do Not Know You, as ‘uncanny valley’ multiplied about a thousand times.” Jon swiveled in his chair, for seemingly no reason other than to get his energy out. 

“So, like a...clown?” Violet asked.

“Exactly.” Jon said, “Tim, he…” Jon pauses and stares at the wall for a minute, lost in himself, lost in grief. When he becomes aware again, he shakes his head and swivels in his chair again, pulling his legs up to cross over his knees, “Tim was my assistant, like Martin. Unlike Martin, I actually chose him. In the beginning, he was cheerful, he was a funny man. A bit of a bastard, but, what are you going to do?”

The Baudelaires continued to listen.

“After Prentiss, which is a topic for another time, Tim began to fade, just a bit. I became increasingly paranoid because we had found the body of Gertrude and I thought that someone had killed her. I spied on him, he was upset, reasonably. I’m getting ahead of myself here. Tim was close with...Tim was close with Sasha, the other assistant. Another servant of the Stranger is a creature called the Not-Them. It replaced her, and we didn’t notice it for a _while._ Almost a year.”

“So Tim was angry?” Klaus asked.

Jon nods, “He wanted revenge for his brother, and...I suppose I wanted to stop Nikola. The Unknowing was...rough, to say the least. Then, Tim set off the detonator, and the building exploded. I don’t remember much after that, besides waking up in the hospital, and you three.”

“I think I understand.” Violet says.

“Oh good!” Jon exclaimed, “I do not like the Stranger. Out of all of them, I’d have to say that it is my second least favorite.”

“ _Orima?_ ” Sunny asked, meaning _‘What’s your first?’_

Jon opened his mouth, then closed it. He was hesitant to tell the children, but why? He had already told them so much, why was this such a big secret?

“Can you tell us about VFD?” Klaus asked, pulling out Martin’s journals, “Or about these?”

Jon’s eyes zeroed in on them immediately, “You-Martin gave you those.”

Klaus nodded, “He did, and I’ve been trying to f-”

“If you’re trying to figure out why, then you already know why. He already told you.” Jon said.

Klaus’s face grew red and he wiped his eyes before continuing, “Al-Alright, in them, he mentions his...his dad, and his dad leaving, and I’ve looked through the few photos that he has left from when his father was around, and I think-”

Jon interrupts Klaus again.

“Klaus…” he warns, “Is this really where you want to look?”

Klaus has a decision to make, a decision that Martin himself has given (and made) up on many times. Klaus looks down at the journals, down at Martin’s familiar handwriting, then back at Jon.

Jon is trying to tell him to stop, he thinks, but really, Jon is urging him to continue. He wants this information uncovered and talked about.

“I think Martin’s dad is VFD.” Klaus revealed.”

* * *

The thing about the Baudelaires is that they were very lucky for the first part of their life. They grew up in a big mansion with the ability to grow. For the majority of their life, nothing bad happened to them. They lived a nice life.

For Martin, his peace left when he was eight. Martin doesn’t remember what it was like before that, but it was similar to the Baudelaires, only less lavish. He woke up to his both of his parents’ love, and he enjoyed playing with spiders and reading poetry. He had been a goofy, happy child once, with barely a care in the world. It sounded impossible, didn’t it?

To say that his father didn’t love him wasn’t quite true. VFD was a very demanding organization. To say that his father didn’t love his mother however? That was accurate. When she fell ill, it got too hard for him to take care of her _and_ keep a failing secret organization afloat. He had to choose. His child and his wife, or VFD. You know the rest.

He kept tabs on them. Over the years, he kept secretly checking up on them. When Martin dropped out of school, he felt...guilty. When Martin took a job at the Institute, he felt scared. When Martin started working in the Archives, he knew that Martin was as good as dead. But he couldn’t do anything to help him. So he just traveled around the world and kept tabs on his son.

* * *

And Jon knew all of that in an instant. But he couldn’t very well tell the children that. After all, his whole plan of slowly introducing them to this depended on the _‘slowly’_ part. They couldn’t know he wasn’t human anymore. They needed to figure this out themselves, and Jon had to give them a push in the right direction.

“You’re right.” Jon said, “Although, I find myself in a position where I cannot interact with them. You three will have to.”

Klaus immediately raised his hand and volunteered. Ironic.

“Wait,” Violet said, “But where is he? And how do we find him? Will he help us find other Volunteers.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jon said, “I’m sure he has lots of information on your parents, as well as the Quagmires. He could help you find them, as I’m sure he has a vested interest in finding them, too.”

Klaus’s Head snaps up to him, “How do you know about that?”

_Shit._

“Olaf mentioned it.” Jon lied, “Mentioned that you were friends with them. I...I assumed you needed help, was I wrong to say that?”

“No,” Violet said, “You were right. If this man can help us find them, then you should have mentioned it. Where is this man?”

“That’s the thing,” Jon said, “He is outside of London.” He pulled out a map from his desk and unfurled it, a phrase which means “gave himself several paper cuts in trying to fold open a gigantic map of England”.

“He’s…” Jon moved his finger and pointed to a place on the outskirts of Harlow, “Here. It’s difficult to See. He must have a-a Leitner or something. Strange.”

Klaus took out a Pencil and marked it down, “Right, we’ll go there as soon as we can. Obviously without Martin, I don’t think he’d like to see his father.”

Violet shook her head, and Sunny chewed her arm in agreement.

“One more thing.” Jon said, “If you need to reach me, at all, don’t hesitate to call the Archives phone number. I'm here all hours of the day, usually. If I’m not, someone else is.”

“What about Olaf?” Klaus asked, “What if he answers the phone?”

Jon frowned, “He isn’t allowed to.”

“What is he allowed to do?” Violet asked, “If you mind us asking.”

“I don’t.” Jon said. He coughed, and the children could feel the room change slightly.

“Olaf is kept on, how you say, a tight leash. I have to admit, I don’t spent a lot of time around him, as I do get a bit untoward, but I know that he does menial work. He staples paper together, fetches statements, he’ll sit where Martin used to sleep, ironically. In fact, he’s there right now, locked away. Basira is keeping an eye on him.”

“Does he ever leave?” Klaus asked.

Jon shook his head, “If he did, he’d go to your home. I don’t let him step foot outside of the Archives.” The Baudelaires nodded. They found this answer acceptable.

They ended their meeting with their usual goodbye, which had been a normal goodbye for the two elder Baudelaires, and a shriek from Sunny. 

Violet picked Sunny up and went outside, ready to leave, leaving only Klaus. Jon could tell that he had something to tell him.

”Yes, Klaus?” Jon asked.

”Martin said something, when he gave me the journals. He...apologized for something he’s going to do in the future.”

Jon frowned, and saw it, “Oh. _Oh._ I’ll...I’ll look into that, Klaus.”

Klaus tilted his head, “I didn’t tell you what he said, Jon.”

Jon put a hand on Klaus’s shoulder, “I’ll explain it to you next time, Klaus. Go with your sisters, now, and head home. We’ve got to work quick.”

Klaus nodded, very confused, but sure in Jon. It was...nice.

When the Baudelaires left, Basira came in.

“So, how’d it go?” She asked, not at all interested in how it actually went.

“Fine.” Jon said, “They know about the Stranger. And about Tim.”

Basira became more interested, “Oh…they accepted this? I...I didn’t hear any crying?”

Jon glared at her.

“...Melanie wanted to apologize.”

Jon was surprised. He turned to Basira, “Oh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Didn’t see that coming, did you? You also didn’t see this coming! I am, in no way shape or form, trying to bring back a relationship with Martin and his father. No way, no how, nada! I like Martin, I relate to him a lot with my own personal life, and seeing stories and movies where all of a sudden a kid who’s dad left them returns and things are suddenly...okay??? It makes no sense! Dang it, Martin is going to be mad! Okay I’m done with that.  
> Is the VFD thing stupid? I don’t know. I woke up with the idea one night and I was like “I am brilliant!” And now I’m like, “Uh...no, no one writes about Martin’s dad. Who’s going to like this?” Also what should his name be? Okay, new plan. If no one likes him (who likes Martin’s /dad/), I’ll kill him off. Agreement? Okay, let’s shake hands. *realizes there isn’t a singular shaking hand emoji*


	6. The Secretive Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Baudelaires meet a stranger. Melanie smashes a phone.

As it turns out, getting to Harlow was simple enough. The Baudelaire children made their way to the address on the map early in the morning, telling Martin that there was an event at the nearby museum (there was) and that, being curious children, they’d probably spend a long time there. And while it hadn’t felt good to lie to their guardian, they felt that, in this instance, the ends justifies the means. Right?

The first thing they did when they got to the house was walk around it, scope it out. It was largely unassuming. The curtains were drawn, but it was the early morning, so that was normal. The house had been recently painted, it looked nice. The shrubs were trimmed, the grass was green. It was an unassuming house. They almost didn’t want to knock on the door. They, excluding Klaus, who walked up the two steps and knocked on the door with such force that it rang out through the whole neighborhood.

They heard a few steps, and Klaus stared at the peephole, trying to intimidate whoever this man may be.

“State your business.” A voice said, from inside the home. The voice sounded posh and sophisticated. A contrast to what they would have imagined Martin’s father to sound like.

“We’re here to see the man who lives here.” Klaus said, still glaring at the peephole.

Violet appeared behind Klaus, “My name is Violet Baudelaire. This is Klaus Baudelaire. And here, in my arms, is Sunny Baudelaire-”

The door quickly opened and a man shrouded in shadow quickly pulled them inside before shutting the door quickly.

Violet looked at the mechanisms of the door and the locks. There were three locks, each unlocked by one single key simultaneously. One was placed above the man’s head, near the top center of the door. One was placed in the center of the door, and the last was placed in the bottom center of the door. Violet thought this was odd, but didn’t have time to ponder this thought, because the man started speaking.

“What are _you_ doing here?” He asked, “You’re supposed to be-be somewhere else! Not here, not in this country!”

In the light, the children could see his face, and the resemblance was quite uncanny. The man looked like an older Martin Blackwood, or perhaps Martin Blackwood looked like a younger him. There was no doubt in their minds that this man, this secretive spy, was their beloved guardian’s deadbeat father.

“Well we are!” Klaus said, “And...and you’ve got quite a lot of explaining to do! Starting with why you look exactly like our guardian!”

The man’s eyes widened, “I...Are you implying that you three, the Baudelaire children, are currently under the care of Martin Blackwood?”

Sunny shrieked, “ _Chod!_ ”

“What my sister means,” Violet said, “is yes! We are under the care of Martin Blackwood, and we are a bit-a bit _pissed off_ that you look exactly like him!”

Klaus gasped at Violet, and broke out into a smile.

“Well alright then.” The man said, “You don’t have to be so foul mouthed, I’m sure your parents wouldn’t like that, not one bit.”

They all glared at him, and he sighed, before taking a seat in one of his fancy chairs, “Alright then, sit on the couch, Baudelaires, it looks like I have some explaining to do.”

They sat on the couch, which was as fancy as the chair. It reminded them of their parents’ home, of the couch they had in the library. It brought a bit of comfort to feel that feeling, to feel like they were sitting in their library again.

“So, you were a Volunteer, then? Just like our parents?” Klaus asked.

“I still am.” The man answered, “I am, of course, a bit older than your parents. They were, what, late thirties? I’m in my late fifties. I was their older cousin, I used to tease them at school for being so small.”

“Right.” Violet said, “And...do you know any other members?”

“Oh, tons. There was Montgomery, Josephine, Snicket, but they’re all dead now, as you know.”

“We don’t know about Snicket!” Klaus cried.

The man paused, “You don’t? Well, I suppose I’d better call up his brother and sister. They’ll want to get you three out of here, fast.” He reached for the phone, and Violet grabbed it, pulling it out of its plug.

“No!” She said, “We don’t want to leave Martin! Do you have any idea what’s going on with him? We _have_ to stay and help him!”

The man stared at her, “I assume that I’m missing some vital information. The last time I checked up on Martin was about six months ago, when he sent Elias Bouchard to jail. He should be doing better now.”

“Better? Jon was in a coma and Tim died! How is that any better?” Klaus said.

The man frowned, “ _Jon,_ this man you seem to speak so fondly of, is better where he’s at, in the coma. The Archivist is a dangerous creature, and the further away he is from Martin, the better off my son will be.”

This angered the Baudelaire children. They had been around both Jon and Martin, and they had only met two other people so deserving of each other, and that had been their parents. They didn’t know why this man felt like he had to regulate Martin’s life when he had barely been in it. And they voiced this.

“Why do you feel like you have to regulate Martin’s life when you’ve barely been in it?” Violet asked.

“I’m doing this to protect him.” The man said.

“What _we_ are doing is protecting him. You’re keeping him from what he wants.”

“And what he wants is-is the Archivist? I highly doubt that. My son wouldn’t be so stupid to fall for its manipulations.”

“Why are you behaving like a child?!” Violet yelled, “You’re being unfair to someone you don’t understand. What if I said that Martin chose this, that it was _his_ fault that he was stuck? Would you be happy with me?”

“It wasn’t-”

“Exactly.” Violet said, “Jon didn’t choose to become the Archivist, Jon didn’t choose to get stuck in a place that he _hates._ It was forced on him, just like it’s forced on Martin, and now you’ve got to choose whether or not you’re going to help us help them!”

The man blinked, and sighed, “You’re right...I behaved inappropriately…” He pauses, “You say something is going on with Martin. I...I’m afraid that I’ve been dealing with something else for the past few months so...if you three would be so kind as to catch me up, I’d be very thankful.”

“Well, where to start?” Klaus asked, “If you know so much about Jon and Elias, then you must know about Peter Lukas.”

“Peter Lukas, who funds the Institute, and now runs it. Avatar of the Lonely. Suspect in about a thousand missing persons cases! Has he…”

“Martin is now his assistant.” Violet mumbled.

The man crosses his arms, and leans forward, head in his hands. The Baudelaires had definitely delivered some devastating news.

“That’s not...That isn’t ideal, I…thank you for telling me this.”

“ _Sena?_ ” Sunny said.

“What my sister means is...have you dealt with him before?”

“A few times.” The man said, “He’s a private man, and I suppose I am too. I’ve had to deal with him in my youth, but his lack of presence these past few years...I’ve associated it with the Institute.”

“What does Peter Lukas do exactly? What...what will Peter Lukas do to Martin?” Klaus asked, sounding entirely afraid.

The man stared at Klaus, and sighed, “Well, if he hasn’t already vanished him to the Lonely, then...then the only option left is that he’s planning on making him an Avatar.”

“No, it’s got to be something else!” Violet said.

The man shook his head, “There’s no other explanation. Trust me, Violet, I’ve been in this game for a long time. Unless there’s somehow something I’ve missed, then that’s it.”

The Baudelaires looked at each other. They would discuss this later, when they weren’t in front of a stranger.

“If you won’t allow me to take you three away, then you must allow me to make some calls. Just to another Volunteer. He’ll come and provide assistance. I think you three will like him.”

“What’s his name?” Klaus asked.

The stranger shook his head, “I can’t tell you that, yet. You’ll know him when you meet him. Now, if you ever need me, you may come visit me, or call this number.” He hands the children an envelope with the symbol they have seen everywhere, the VFD symbol, “The password is, ‘The world is quiet here’. If Martin gets worse, t-“

“What’s your name?” Violet asked.

The man frowned, “For now, call me Blackwood. My first name is on a need to know basis, and you, Baudelaires, do not need to know right now. _If Martin gets worse,_ which he will, do what you think is right, and don’t doubt it.” Blackwood stood up, and reached for a small photo album on the mantel above the fireplace.

“Anchors can help. This might not be of any use, but...who knows.” Blackwood gives Klaus the photo album.

“Is that all, Blackwood?” Violet asks.

He nods, “You should leave. I’m positive that someone has been watching me for a while, and I don’t want to endanger you further. Would you like me to drive you home?”

They shook their heads. Martin could see, and if he saw Blackwood, then he would freak out. They could get home by themselves. Besides, whoever was watching Blackwood was more concerning.

“Do you know who is watching you?” Klaus asked, “Is it one person or multiple people?”

Blackwood frowned, “I can handle it, Baudelaires. It’s time for you to go.”

* * *

Melanie hated Count Olaf. She hated his face, she hated his name, she hated his life. If Basira wasn’t constantly watching over him, she would have stabbed him already.

Basira explained to Melanie what Jon had told her, and she officially decided that she hated Olaf more than Jon, which was really saying something. After Jon and Basira got the bullet out of her leg, she still hated him. After all, what wasn’t easy to hate from a man who dedicated his life to terrorizing and chasing children for their parents fortune, of which they had no access to?

When Basira told Melanie that she could watch him for a few minutes while Basira went to the bathroom, Melanie was gleeful, for once. Finally, she could terrorize this man. She hadn’t picked up a weapon since the bullet was removed, but she could still come off as intimidating. The dark circles under her eyes helped that.

So Melanie waited outside of the small room Olaf was in, silently preparing for her grand entrance, ready to mess with him. Then she heard him speak.

“-mires in Artifact Storage-“

Artifact Storage. Something was in there that he had no business knowing, and she stormed in, angry but not so angry that he could hurt him. He had a cell phone in his hand, one that he had somehow snuck past Basira _and_ Jon. Melanie grabbed it and crushed it with her foot immediately.

“What the hell is in Artifact Storage?!” Melanie yelled.

Olaf didn’t answer. Well, it looked like she was going to have to make him answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, forgot to upload. To be honest, I don’t like this chapter that much (you can tell I’m trying to figure out what Blackwood’s character is). It was real hard to write (except Melanie’s part, that was easy and simple).  
> Blackwood sounds stupid, doesn’t it (for the dad, not the name itself. I would never disrespect my mans Martin). I just don’t know what to call him. If anyone has any suggestions, please suggest...them (why does that sound so weird).


	7. The Working Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie goes on a hunt (relax). Jon interviews a triplet (relax).

Melanie always ended her work day by clocking out, which was largely rewarding, especially when Georgie was the one to pick her up. Today, however, after screaming in the face of an evil man.

She didn’t get much, Olaf was quiet throughout her interrogation, but she did know that something was in Artifact Storage. So when she went home with Georgie that day, and explained everything that had happened to her.

“He sounds like a prick.” Georgie said.

“He is.” Melanie responded, “I hate him, I hate him  _ so much,  _ and I hate that he is still alive and-“ Melanie stops and takes a breath. She knows that she is letting her anger get the best of her, but that’s all she has now. 

Georgie tenderly grabbed her hand, and squeezed it, scooting closer, “Mel, it’s alright. Be angry at him,  _ feel.  _ Tomorrow, you can use all of it on him and find out what he’s hiding.”

Melanie sighed, “What if it doesn’t fix it? What if...what if I’m just like this forever?”

Georgie smiled at her, and Melanie felt her heart melt. She was certain that she loved Georgie.

“You aren’t like that with me, Mel. Now, come on, I think The Admiral is getting a bit pissy. Look at him.”

They turn to him, and he is sitting on the floor, glaring at them both. They chuckle, and Melanie goes to pick him up. She hadn’t been very fond of cats before Melanie, but now, she thinks she loves this one.

The next day, Basira and Jon are elsewhere, more concerned with Breekon. Apparently, he had come into the Institute to drop off one last package. Apparently, that’s where Daisy had gone. Melanie couldn’t focus on that now, though. She had to focus on getting that information out of Olaf, even if it killed him.

Olaf had been sulking around Jon’s office, waiting for him to leave, probably to figure out how to quit. The man didn’t get the hint, and it pissed Melanie off!

She grabbed the back of his terrible, smelly jacket and pushed him against the wall, chest first.

“Listen up.” She said, “We’ve got  _ all  _ day to ‘talk’ about what you’re hiding. And my girlfriend packed my lunch today, so you won’t even get a thirty minute break! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Olaf sighed, “Honestly, let’s just get this over with.”

Melanie’s vision went red, and she punched the wall right beside his head, “This isn’t going to be a walk in the park, asshole. Now, come on.” She pulled him up, and led him back to the main area.

* * *

Jon opened his door and looked outside, surveying the area. He was sure that he had heard a noise, a rather loud one at that, outside of the hallway. His eyes focused on a hole in the wall, and he frowned. Melanie. And Olaf. Right, something happened there. He hopes it was something good, but probably not. He would get Basira to talk to her later, but now...now he had to meet someone. So he closed his door and waited.

Five minutes later, the door was knocked on. Jon opened it again.

“Oh, hello, I don’t think we’ve officially met. My name is Dewey Denouement, Manager at Hotel Denouement.”

“Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.” Jonathan shakes his hand, confident that he isn’t going to burn his hand yet again.

“Come in, take a seat.” Jon closed the door behind Dewey.

“The world is quiet here.” Dewey said, pretending to look at the bland office art Jon had on the wall. Jon smiled.

“The world is quiet here.” Jon repeated, before sitting down, “Now, shall we get to talking? I assure you that no one is listening.”

Dewey nodded, and readjusted himself on the chair, “I must admit, when I found out that Gertrude had  _ died  _ I was a bit surprised, moreso to discover that you had made so much progress so quickly. The VFD keeps tabs on many things, Jonathan, but...I’m afraid that this wasn’t one of them. I’m sorry.”

Dewey Denouement, as Jon Knew, was a kind man. He made the book by which many VFD members followed their code. He held the few remaining safe houses. Right now, Jon trusted him.

“Call me Jon, and it’s alright. I’m...handling it as best as I can. I know of the condition the VFD has been in and I don’t want to strain it any further but...it has come to my attention that someone I care very,  _ very  _ much about has now been appointed guardian of the Baudelaires.”

Dewey’s eyes widened, “Oh? I...I thought they’d be in the Village right now. Who might this be, if I might ask?”

Jon narrowed his eyes, “What would you do with this information?”

Dewey laughed, “Nothing to your person, I assure you. I just want to make sure they’re safe.”

Jon already knows that Martin will be in danger and that Dewey can do nothing to stop it. 

“The Institute, Dewey, is a place that provides its own...benefits. This applies to him. Martin Blackwood doesn’t need any spy harassing him, especially one from VFD.”

“Blackwood? As in...Leonard Blackwood?” Dewey asked, mostly to himself.

Jon nodded, “Yes, I Know about that, too. You can imagine what might happen if Martin were to find out where exactly his father went and why.”

Dewey shakes his head, “I can’t, no. I don’t know his son very well. Any assumptions I make from Leonard Blackwood would probably be wrong. After all, children are rarely like their parents.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be great. You might not know much about the Fears, but I assure you that the Lonely isn’t something that I would like to lose him to.”

Dewey’s features soften, “The Lonely? I…” He stops.

Jon Knows he feels responsible. Dewey is an empathetic man, after all. He cares for people. That was the reason he started a hotel and the reason he joined VFD.

“I would like to know more about him; Leonard Blackwood. I know you worked close with him, a while ago.”

“It seems like a very long time ago, Jon. He was my friend. We worked together for some time, on missions. We traveled the world and saw some amazing things. We saw some...terrible things too. You know...he even showed me Martin, once. We were far away, but I saw him. He was about thirteen, and he was walking home from school. If I remember correctly, I believe he stopped to write in some notebook he had. His father seemed to be proud of him, but...in his case, I don’t think Martin would like to hear that.”

“He wouldn’t.” Jon said, “I know I wouldn’t.”

Dewey nodded, “I stopped working with him when I met up with my brothers. We were all triplets, Frank, Ernest, and I. It’s impossible to tell us apart, but I assure you, I am Dewey. My brothers never leave the Hotel. I love them, you know. It’s...It’s impossible not to love someone you’ve grown up with, at least for me. And it’s impossible not to love someone who looks like me, who looks like  _ them.  _ Even if they are very difficult.”

“And...what do you know of Elias? I was able to get your information through his files. Did you keep in regular contact through him?”

Dewey laughed, “Oh, no. I never liked men like Elias or the last Head of the Institute. What’s his name?”

“James Wright.” Jon supplies.

“As cold as Gertrude seemed, she was the one I dealt with, and I didn’t deal with her often. Really, it’s quite a surprise to hear from you, Jon.”

* * *

Melanie locked Olaf in a supply closet during her lunch break, actually. Not to eat lunch, of course. She had gotten hungry earlier and ate it in front of him. She had locked Olaf in the supply closet because she was going to sniff around in Artifact Storage.

Basira was out for the day, researching everything she could find about the coffin. Jon was with someone named Dewey. Which meant that Melanie was alone. She knew very well that she  _ could  _ get Martin, since this technically involved  _ his  _ kids, but she didn’t even know if he knew Olaf was in the Archives. She didn’t want to hear more of Jon’s moping if Martin decided to isolate himself further.

Artifact Storage, as she understood, was dangerous. This was the place Sasha had been taken. Melanie could still remember her face, her  _ real  _ one.

While Melanie walked, she heard a crumple underneath her shoe. She lifted it up, and looked down at it. It appeared to be a small sliver of paper. Melanie picked it up, and read it aloud.

_ “For sapphires we are held in here, Only you can end our fear.”  _

Melanie didn’t like poetry. She thought it was stupid, but...it was so close to Artifact Storage and it looked to be written in small writing. She had to figure out who wrote this.

When she stepped into Artifact Storage, she expected to find something or someone inside, something that set off the alarm in her head. But she found nothing of the sort. A few people worked there, but they didn’t pay her any mind. After all, everyone knew Melanie. She had taken down so many agents of the Flesh. She was practically a superhero, feared and respected.

She stared at the paper, waiting for it to give her an answer, when she heard another familiar crinkle underneath her shoe.

She picked another paper up, smiling. She actually loved puzzles more than poetry. She read this one aloud too.

_ “Until the woman with the door opens up, We cannot send a message, we cannot interrupt.”  _ Melanie flapped her hands and spun around. Finally, something exciting!

“What are you doing, Helen?” Melanie whispered. One of the people working turned to look at Melanie with a suspicious gaze, but Melanie just glared back at them, and they turned away.

These messages, these clues that someone has been leaving for Melanie, she’d solve them. And when she did, she’d help them. That was her promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Dewey, okay! I think he shouldn’t have died! And he won’t! :(  
> Also...the Quagmires 👀...Too bad I stink at both making puzzles at poetry so no awesome FOUNTAIN poetry. And Georgie! And The Admiral! Lots of things, lots of things! But no Martin or Baudelaires, sorry...


End file.
